Chapter 70
“This… looks like a Flame Buster.”
“A Flame Buster?”
“It’s a firebomb being developed in Neo Seoul specifically for anti–magical beast use. I’ve heard it’s meant to damage B-rank or higher beasts, but…”
Jo Sanghyeok trailed off.
Rumors were just rumors.
B-rank magical beasts—especially special variants—possessed powerful force fields.
Because of those barriers, ordinary weapons couldn’t even leave a scratch.
Only attacks from Awakeners could pierce them.
The desert was full of such creatures.
That was one of the reasons people remained tied to Neo Seoul.
Safe land was limited, but the population kept growing.
Expanding beyond Neo Seoul had become a necessity.
That was why the Flame Buster was being developed—
To deal significant damage to B-rank, boss-level magical beasts.
“But as far as I know, the Flame Buster hasn’t been completed yet.”
“Are you sure?”
“The serial number we found—‘FB’ stands for Flame Buster, and ‘130’ means it’s the 130th prototype.”
“How do you know that?”
“W-well… I have some connections with weapon smugglers.”
Jo Sanghyeok answered honestly.
Neo Seoul and the slums had a kind of symbiotic relationship.
Weapons developed in Neo Seoul sometimes flowed into the slums.
Some were smuggled out by black-market groups, but others were deliberately leaked.
Since they couldn’t openly test such weapons inside Neo Seoul, they used slum organizations as testing grounds.
Because of that, smuggling groups knew quite a bit about weapon development.
“So it’s a prototype, then?”
“Yes. And its power seems weaker than what I’ve heard. It might be a smaller, separate version. If it were a proper Flame Buster, this entire area would’ve been wiped out.”
Since it was designed to break through magical beast force fields, its destructive power was immense.
A full explosion could bring down massive buildings in an instant.
Even in the lawless slums, damage on that scale would force every faction to intervene.
That would only create bigger problems.
Zeon asked,
“Any organizations that recently acquired a Flame Buster?”
“Not that I know of. It’s still just a prototype…”
“Are you sure?”
Zeon’s voice dropped heavily.
A chill ran down Jo Sanghyeok’s spine.
Zeon was still smiling—but his eyes weren’t.
Jo Sanghyeok began to stammer.
“I-it’s just that…”
“Tell me anything that might be a lead. If I later find out you held back information, I’ll show you fireworks that make a Flame Buster look like a toy.”
“Ghk!”
In that instant, the temperature inside the warehouse spiked violently.
Zeon had released a fraction of his power.
‘Damn it!’
Jo Sanghyeok’s face twisted in pain.
It felt like his entire body was melting from the heat.
If this continued, his lungs would burn from the scorching air.
He hurriedly spoke.
“Th-there’s… a group that’s been causing trouble lately.”
“Oh?”
The moment Zeon showed interest, the suffocating heat vanished.
Before his mood could change again, Jo Sanghyeok quickly continued.
“They’re called the Crocodiles.”
“Crocodiles?”
“They live underground. They got that name because they devour anything like crocodiles. Just like their name suggests, they’ll do anything for money.”
“And?”
“Their movements have been unusual lately. No one knows why, but they’ve been stirring things up all over the place.”
“And the other organizations just let them?”
“The underground sewers are their territory. As you know…”
“Too filthy for anyone to enter?”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
Zeon turned away without hesitation.
There was nothing more to gain by pressing Jo Sanghyeok further.
Now it was time to act.
The slums didn’t exist only above ground.
With no space left to build, some people had turned their eyes underground.
Unable to own homes above, they sought them below instead.
He had heard rumors of people forming settlements in the underground—but had never seen them himself.
‘The underground…’
Zeon returned to the intersection.
The street where the truck had exploded was already clean.
Not because anyone had cleaned it—but because everything had been looted.
Even the burnt vehicle frame held value.
It could be melted down or repurposed.
In the slums, nothing went to waste.
But that didn’t matter.
The burnt remains weren’t what Zeon needed.
He walked around the intersection.
What he was searching for was an entrance to the underground.
There was no way someone had carried a bulky item like a mana generator through the streets openly.
They must have taken the nearest underground route.
After searching for a while, Zeon finally found one.
In a secluded alley, hidden behind piles of junk, there was a small passage.
It should have been sealed with iron bars—but they had been bent open.
A foul stench seeped out from within.
Even slum dwellers avoided going near it.
Zeon stepped through without hesitation.
Like flowing sand, he slipped through the gap and descended underground.
It was a sewer.
Filthy water sloshed around his ankles.
The stench was so overpowering it made his head spin.
Zeon paused briefly, steadying himself.
Even though the environment was harsh, Zeon had survived in far worse places.
This was nothing for him to adapt to.
And in fact, he did.
Before long, Zeon adjusted to the stench and began moving.
No matter how filthy the underground sewer was, if humans moved through it, traces would always remain.
And there they were—
Handprints on the walls, scrape marks left behind.
Zeon didn’t miss any of them.
Splash. Splash.
Each step he took sent ripples through the murky water.
Ordinary shoes would have been soaked by now, but Zeon’s were no ordinary footwear.
They were made from magical beast leather.
Not a single drop seeped in.
Thanks to that, Zeon could move through the sewer without concern.
As he walked swiftly, his eyes suddenly sharpened.
A fork in the path.
This was where things became important.
Zeon looked down.
Both passages carried flowing sewage—but one was completely dry.
No matter how adapted someone was, they couldn’t live submerged in wastewater.
If people lived here, it would be somewhere the sewage didn’t reach.
Zeon chose the dry path.
The tunnel was tall enough for an adult to walk upright.
That made things easier.
From that point on, breathing became noticeably more comfortable.
The foul stench in the air had weakened significantly.
It wasn’t just that Zeon had adapted—
Something artificial seemed to be purifying the air.
‘An item?’
Air-purifying items were extremely expensive.
And not something easily obtained, even with money.
They were only traded within Neo Seoul.
Yet here it was, being used to clean sewer air.
The scale and capability of those living underground seemed far greater than expected.
After taking a few more steps—
“Who the hell are you?”
“A tracker?”
Rough voices rang out as figures lunged from the darkness.
Two weapons cut through the shadows, aiming for Zeon’s neck and head.
They were targeting vital points.
Zeon lightly shifted his body, dodging the attacks, and struck back in a single motion.
“Ghk!”
“Ugh!”
The attackers cried out.
Zeon’s fist had slammed precisely into their abdomens.
It was a blow strong enough to incapacitate an ordinary person instantly—
Yet they somehow endured.
They wore ragged armor stitched together from scraps, which absorbed some of the impact.
“A bastard from above!”
“Kill him!”
They charged again, snarling.
With yellowed teeth bared, they looked like rabid dogs.
“Tch.”
Zeon clicked his tongue.
People in the slums were tough by nature, but these ones were beyond that.
Holding back wouldn’t be enough to subdue them.
Crack!
Zeon’s fist and knee struck simultaneously—one crushing a skull, the other smashing into a stomach.
The one hit in the head instantly lost focus in his eyes.
The one struck in the abdomen had his protective gear shattered, the full impact ripping through his body.
The pain was like his insides bursting—he collapsed unconscious.
Without sparing them another glance, Zeon continued forward.
Since the guards had fallen, those inside would already know an intruder had arrived.
Tap—tap—
Just as Zeon quickened his pace—
“Die!”
Ratatatat!
Gunfire erupted through the sewer.
Not pistols—automatic weapons.
Firearms weren’t very effective against thick-skinned magical beasts, which was why they had fallen out of favor.
But they were still highly efficient for killing humans.
The attackers fired wildly from the darkness.
But the bullets had no effect on Zeon.
The robe he wore protected him completely.
Whoosh!
Zeon kicked off the ground and launched forward.
In an instant, he closed the distance and subdued the shooters.
“Aaagh!”
“Urgh!”
Cries echoed as they collapsed.
Zeon stood in the center, looking down at them.
None of them had washed properly—the stench clung to them.
Their appearances were miserable, no different from those struggling to survive outside the colonies.
“What are you…? What are you?!”
“Ugh… I’ll kill you… you bastard…”
Even sprawled on the ground, they glared at Zeon with venomous hatred.
Most people would have lost their will after being beaten like that.
But not them.
They foamed at the mouth, hurling curses filled with malice.
They were far from ordinary.
But then again—
Neither was Zeon.
This level of hostility didn’t affect him in the slightest.
Ignoring their murderous glares, Zeon looked around.
The underground space was fairly large, filled with piled-up goods.
Among them—
He spotted it.
The mana generator that was meant for him.
“So it was here.”
Just as he began walking toward it—
“What are you?”
A low, heavy voice echoed.
Zeon stopped and turned toward the source.
A man sat atop a large wooden crate, casually trimming his nails.
He used a dagger as thick as a grown man’s forearm.
His face was covered in tattoos, and his unusually yellow eyes gleamed eerily in the darkness.
Strangely, the space around him seemed distorted.
He spoke again.
“I asked what you are.”
“I’m the owner of that item.”
Zeon glanced at the mana generator.
The man smirked.
“So you crawled all the way here for a mana generator? You’ve got guts. But what a shame—I have no intention of giving it back.”
“Well, that’s a problem. Because I intend to take it back.”
Zeon smiled back at him.